


Masked meetings

by Mazen



Series: Masked [1]
Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux, Phantom - Susan Kay, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Christine is so patient, Erik cries, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff with a dash of angst, Masquerade, Modern AU, So much smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-23 22:37:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17692418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mazen/pseuds/Mazen
Summary: Christine is a young woman studying at the Conservatory for Music and Arts who is attending her friend's yearly masquerade party where there's only one rule: The mask stays on! Here she meets an intriguing man with a mask like everyone else.Five chapter of fluff, angst and smut.





	1. First

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short story that came to me as I was supposed to do something else. Hope you enjoy.

Christine had ventured up on the stage at the insistence of Meg. "Come on, Chris, no one will recognize you. You can make it my birthday present." She'd begged. Christine tried to argue that she'd already gotten her a present which Meg had opened before her party, but there was no arguing with her determined friend.

And it was true that people wouldn't recognize her. Instead of her usual jeans and t-shirt, she was in the spirit of the masquerade wearing a large Victorian gown in emerald green with black lace around the etches. Though the skirt was large, hiding most of her butt, the corset enhanced her shape by showing off her waist and breasts. She usually had her long brown hair in a bun to hide the unruly curls, but tonight she'd set them free and enjoyed the way they framed her face. Her face was of course mostly covered by a simple gold mask with two emerald feathers. Only her mouth was left exposed.

Her terrible stage fright seemed to vanish as she stood in front of the 100+ people Meg had invited tonight. Under her disguise, under her mask, her identity was hidden even as she was on display. Like this she felt free enough to showcase her voice that she'd only shared with a few people in her life: Meg who was her best friend; Raoul, her on and off again boyfriend; and her father who had taught her everything about singing except how to do it in front of a crowd.

She'd chosen Defying Gravity from Wicked, a song sure to please the guests who were mostly from the Conservatory like Meg and herself. But they all only knew Christine as a pianist, not knowing that her real passion was singing. The song was perfect for her as a soprano and she felt herself getting lost in the lyrics, feeling how every word fit her perfectly. The touch of her mask, at first cool and clammy leather, had become a second skin that gave life to her voice on stage - her every breath a performance, yet also entirely real.

When she'd sung the last line, she finally returned to reality where she stood in front of almost everyone she knew and all of a sudden fear began creeping up in her again. She felt a blush spread from her neck and to her face as the room was eerily silent, but it was only a moment before the crowd started to applaud and whistle. 

She bowed once, then left the stage in a hurry. People came up to her, asking her for her name, the name of her agent and for an encore - none of these were anything she wanted to share. Luckily Meg came to her rescue. "You can call her Little Lottie and perhaps she will grant you with a song later tonight." She just smiled and led Christine away from everyone. "Incredible that none of them could recognize you, not even Jamees who's in the same class as you." Meg grinned. She was a dance major, so she didn't know how Christine went out of her way to avoid singing for anyone. Meg had only discovered it because Christine had thought she was alone in their apartment and had started to sing while dusting.

"Meg, I need some fresh air. I'll be back in a moment. Just continue your hosting duties, I'll be right in." Christine was sweating. The gown felt extremely warm and she hoped to sneak her mask off on the balcony to wipe the sweat from her brow. It would've to be done discreetly though. Meg would have her head if she discovered that she'd broken The One Rule about not taking off the mask. 

To her disappointment she discovered that she wasn't the only one who'd escaped to the balcony. A tall, lean man stood to the right, looking over the city. The Eiffel Tower was only illuminated by the moon and a sprinkle of stars above them. She noticed him in the dark discreetly glancing to her as she moved to the other end of the balcony, but he didn't say a word. He seemed to need the same peace as her. 

She drew in several deep breaths to calm herself down after the performance, then moved to remove her mask, but she was stopped by a tsk of disapproval. "I hear the only rule is that you can't remove your mask tonight." The man said in a captivating voice. Her hand fell from her mask and she turned around to find him not even looking at her. 

"Can't I trust you not to tell?" She asked with a small tease in her voice. The interest in engaging in a conversation had suddenly sparked in her at the sound of his voice.

He finally turned around to look at her, his eyes a strange blaze of yellow, almost golden in the darkness. He was wearing a simple black suit, though with a coat tail, and a sharp white mask that covered all of his face, except for his mouth, like her own. It made him stand out, yet still very anonymously. "I'm a firm believer in rules." He finally replied without giving her a clear answer and it annoyed her. It didn't really matter because she wasn't sweating anymore out here, but she didn't like that sort of half answer. She didn't get to respond before he continued. "I heard you sing."

She nodded slowly. She was pretty sure everyone had heard her sing, but his statement wasn't followed by a compliment like one would expect. "Oh?" She replied because she didn't know what else to say. He took a few steps closer, but still stayed at a comfortable distance. It wasn't until then she realized that they'd been staring into each other's eyes from the moment he'd turned around. She turned her head slightly to the view, feeling overwhelmed by the intense contact.

"I'm surprised I haven't heard your voice before." His voice seemed to float around her, an angelic sound with a melody in its depths. 

"Do you sing?" She asked, curious to hear if his singing would be anything like she imagined: A secure blanket of music wrapping around her and warming her very soul. He observed her for a moment before speaking.

"I prefer to listen." His response was curt and he changed the subject to her again. "Why did you choose that song, I wonder?" An odd question, she thought to herself, but something made her reply anyway. 

"It fit my vocal range and it pleased the crowd." He nodded, but she felt that he searched for another answer. "I prefer classical music and opera, but it's not as popular these days." He nodded again, this time a small smile visible in the dark. Her answer had pleased him and for some reason it made her happy. "You agree?"

"I do. The complexity intrigues me." He looked over her body briefly and it pulled her out of the moment, making her realize that she'd fallen into his eyes again. Somehow the constant eye contact didn't bother her as it usually did when she spoke to people. "Who teaches you?" He asked, once again catching her eyes.

"My father did until he passed away a few years ago. It was our shared passion."

"You don't attend the Conservatory?" He asked in surprise at her response. 

"I do. But not for singing." She was a little nervous because she knew what he would ask her.

"Then for what?" He asked, but she didn't get to answer before he continued. "Why not when you're clearly talented? Is it not your passion?" He seemed almost offended which puzzled her. He'd stepped closer, but still at a respectable distance.

"It doesn't matter." She answered, yet continued because of some imploring look in the golden eyes. "I do love to sing, but I get stage fright when I have to sing in front of others. Tonight was different because the mask hid who I was." She didn't know why she told a stranger all of this, but perhaps it was nice to talk to someone else about it. Raoul and Meg always tried to downplay her nervousness and told her to go for it, but it wasn't so simple. And this man seemed to understand that. He looked at her with a sort of wonder in his eyes and it warmed her.

"Masks reveal, they don’t conceal. Masks reveal your cravings, your passion, your deepest most secret desires.” His passionate voice made her grasp onto every word. "You see, a mask doesn't hide you, it exposes you. Something happens to people when they're masked. They become free. Like you felt free to share your voice."

It made sense to her. She felt more free covered in a mask than she did without it. "I guess it's easier to be judged by a mask you can take off, than it is to be judged by your face." She touched her mask, feeling the golden fabric covering the leather which held it firmly against her skin. His eyes glinted in the moonlight and she wondered if it was tears.

They stood in silence for a few minutes, looking over the city, before he cleared his throat and spoke. "I'd like to teach you if I may. With masks if you prefer it. We can both wear them."

She smiled. "Thank you for your kind offer, but I don't have the money."

"I'll do it for free." He answered. Her face must've looked like a question mark because he added: "I could use a beautiful voice like that in my life." The warmth in her heart bloomed and continued into her stomach where it turned into butterflies. She felt a smile on her face and let it grow.

"I'd like to be that voice then." She whispered and stepped a little closer to him as he did the same. They were in each other's personal space, but it didn't seem to bother any of them. It was strange with the masks covering their faces and yet liberating. She looked at his lips, then back at his eyes, but found that he was looking at her lips too. Letting herself relax she closed her eyes and leaned in slowly, feeling him do the same as his breath came closer to her. Her lips finally found his and the butterflies in her stomach fluttered at the sensation.

"Chri.... Little Lottie!" Meg called out and Christine stepped back, embarrassed to have almost gotten caught. She didn't do this sort of thing. She'd dated Raoul for a month before she'd let him kiss her. Meg walked onto the balcony and looked between the two of them. "Little Lottie, you said you'd be right in, but you've been gone an hour... Am I interrupting something?" Christine sighed. Meg was a sweet girl, but she could be completely ignorant sometimes.

"Sorry, give me a minute, then I'll be there." She pleaded her friend to leave and for once Meg seemed to take the hint. She looked back at the man before her whose lips she'd barely felt and wanted to taste again. But the spell was broken. "I'm sorry, that was poorly timed." She said with a laugh. He looked a bit ashamed and she wondered if he was ashamed of kissing her. The thought made the butterflies drop to a heap in her stomach. "Do you want to go back inside?" She hated how easily her nervousness could be detected in her voice. 

He shook his head and forced a smile. "No, I'm not fond of big crowds." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a card. "If you still... are interested in taking lessons with me." He gave her his card which she gladly took. She looked down at it.

"Maestro" She read the name written in a large font. Underneath was a phone number and nothing else. "Should I call you that then?" She winked, trying to be flirty, something she wasn't really good at. He nodded uncomfortably. "Well, then you can call me Little Lottie." She tried to laugh it off, but stopped when she saw the almost insulted look on his face.

"That name makes you sound like a child. If we must use nicknames I'll prefer to call you Angel. Like the Angel of Music." His simple words gave life to the butterflies in her stomach and she knew that she couldn't wait for their first lesson. But now she had to go before Meg came for her again.

"I'll call you tomorrow, Maestro." She tried for a flirty smile, though she probably failed miserably because he didn't return it. She turned and walked inside to find Meg, hiding the card safely in her corset.

***

The rest of the evening was spent in good company, but she couldn't help but keep an eye out for a tall man in a white mask. Perhaps she could ask him for a dance. She was disappointed not to see him. Meg didn't know who he was, but jested that she didn't recognize most of these people anyway. 

Christine managed to excuse herself from Meg's side and went out on the balcony again, telling herself that she just needed some fresh air. Sadly the balcony was empty. She pulled out the card from her corset and ran her fingers over the imprinted word 'Maestro'. Maybe she should've asked him for a real name.

Suddenly the wind picked up and swept the card out of her hands. She shouted after it as it was carried away from the fifth floor they were on. She hurried inside and into the elevator. Perhaps it would be on the ground outside the building. After half an hour searching for that stupid card and five texts from Meg she gave up and went inside. Hopefully she could google him or ask around. Someone would know him.


	2. Second

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik frets over the woman who never called, leading an annoyed Nadir to trick him.

Four words. He couldn't just have asked her four words? 

'What is your name?'

It should've been so simple. But he'd felt completely spellbound by this beautiful woman who'd seemed interested in talking to him, who'd sung like an angel, who had a cute hint of a Swedish accent, who had understood his bizarre thoughts about hiding oneself under a mask. He would've asked her, but stopped completely when she looked at his lips and licked her own. He'd read a lot about women and it was supposed to be a clear sign that she wanted to kiss him. After that he couldn't keep his eyes off her lips, his heart roaring in his ears with its vicious beats. Then her lips met his and it had felt so right.

The moment had ended abruptly by her pulling away, looking embarrassed when her friend came out on the balcony. After that she'd smiled and perhaps even flirted with him, so he'd thought that she might still be interested in him. That's why he'd given her his number. He rarely gave it out to anyone since he didn't like to be bothered by his phone, but even if she was only interested in free lessons, he would gladly do it to be near her. To hear that beautiful voice again and look into those sky blues eyes.

But alas she had never called. Perhaps the promise of free lessons wasn't worth it after she'd kissed him. He hadn't kissed anyone before and wondered if he had done something wrong. It could only have lasted a second or perhaps two, but he wouldn't put it past himself to be able to ruin a kiss in that amount of time. It had been enough time for him to know that he never wanted to let her go.

When she'd left the balcony, he'd sneaked out of the party as well. He'd only gone after Nadir had asked him to. The problem with having a theater was that you sometimes needed to bring in new talent and Nadir said that fresh talent rarely arrived at auditions, but had to be found. And he had found quite a few talents in the time they'd known each other, so Erik didn't argue.

Usually Nadir was in charge of that, but he'd fallen ill on the night of the Conservatory's party of the year, according to the Persian. It wasn't actually held by the Conservatory, but by a student who happened to be the daughter of one of the teachers and therefore used the ballroom of the college. "But you can attend without worrying about any stares. It's a masquerade! Just a tiny affair. It'll be perfect for you." Nadir had insisted. It had been much too crowded for him. Over a hundred people wasn't anywhere near tiny. It wasn't long before he had headed for the balcony. He had promised Nadir to stay at the party for at least two hours, but his friend hadn't made him promise that he would be in the room. The balcony surely counted. 

He had stopped before reaching the balcony doors when a voice of an angel silenced the entire room with her voice. She'd worn a beautiful gown in emerald green and a golden mask framed by gorgeous brown curls. As she'd sung, her body held itself straight and she took in deep breaths at all the right times, making her voice soar. He was completely mesmerized.

He'd wanted to approach her, but he hadn't known how to. Nadir hadn't really thought about this plan because he knew that Erik wasn't good at initiating contact with anyone. Part of their business arrangement was that Erik took care of arranging the productions while Nadir handled finding talents and investors. Erik never really gave singing lessons though he could. He just rather not. It was also the reason his business card didn't have any more information on it.

As a crowd had gathered around the woman to congratulate her, Erik'd chosen to just go out on the balcony after all. Perhaps he could gather some courage on the quiet balcony. When he'd heard the balcony doors open, he hadn't expected the very angel he wanted to approach. And he had dared to initiate contact, discovering that her company actually put him at ease. Then he'd ruined it by kissing her, making her run away from him.

After the fiasco Nadir had wanted to know all the details. Being the _good_ friend that he is, he knew immediately that something had happened and hadn't given up until Erik had told him everything. It had made his life a living hell because Nadir wouldn't stop pestering him about it. He forced Erik to look through every picture they could find of women from the Conservatory to find her - without luck. There wasn't even any reason for it since the woman hadn't contacted him like she'd promised, but Nadir thought of every excuse in the book to explain why she hadn't called. 

It just wasn't meant to be and Nadir had finally seemed to accept that. That assumption had proved to be incorrect. Nadir had asked him to join him at dinner which wasn't very unusual. He had also asked Erik to pick him up at the Conservatory and drive him to the restaurant which wasn't unusual either because Nadir had a lot of business there. But tonight he asked if they could meet inside which should've made Erik suspicious. But it wasn't until they were in the elevator on their way to the fifth floor that Erik realized what his friend was up to. 

It had been a year since the last masquerade and when the elevator doors opened to the ballroom, Erik was once again met by a large crowd in masks. Nadir pulled one out for himself, seemingly out of nowhere, and clasped Erik on the back a bit too hard, so he almost stumbled. "Let's find this angel then." The older man grinned, making Erik even more sure of his intentions of not leaving the elevator. This was embarrassing and he cursed Nadir in every language he knew. Before the doors closed again, his friend pulled him into the room by the arm.

"When something magical happens, you don't ignore it. We're staying here for two hours and if your angel doesn't appear, we'll go. Just give this a chance." Nadir was suddenly more serious than Erik had ever seen him and that was disturbing. He was going to disappoint Nadir tonight, he just knew it.

Erik didn't even want to look at him and instead passed him to find the balcony once again. This time there were a few people out there talking, but he didn't care. It was better than the ballroom and Nadir's insisting expression. Did he expect Erik to suddenly go around and greet every woman until he found the right now? She might not even be here and if she was, there was a good chance that she didn't want to talk to him. She hadn't called him.

He could at least enjoy the view, even though it was clouded. A couple left the balcony, giving him more room to breathe. There was another couple to the left, but he gave them their privacy. Until he heard the voice.

"Raoul, I've already told you it's over." Her voice sounded angry, but there was no mistaking it was her. Her faint accent, the airy tone in her voice; it was without a doubt her. He turned around by sheer reflex to look at her. She was wearing a deep red Elizabethan gown with a black mask covered in small black stones. It still hid her entire face except the mouth. Her brown curls were loose and created an almost regal look. She was gorgeous, even more so than he remembered. How could he even think that a woman like her would be interested in him?

He knew that he should turn away instead of staring, but he found himself frozen to the spot. And that's when she saw him. They locked eyes and he noticed how her eyes widened in recognition, not surprising as he was wearing the same as last year. There was a clear look of embarrassment in her eyes. He ran inside, not interested in an awkward conversation with her. Nadir stood by the elevator, so Erik went for the emergency exit stairs instead, running down the steps almost faster than his long legs could follow. He heard the door above him open and cursed Nadir for finding him. He wasn't going back in there.

"Maestro!" A voice breathed and he stopped dead in his tracks. He dared to look up between the railings and found her staring back at him. "Please, can I talk to you?" She asked, voice still breathy. Had she run after him? It didn't make sense to him. 

She began walking down the stairs to him, little steps clattering down. He could've walked up to meet her, but his legs weren't moving. He tried swallowing the lump in his throat, willing himself to have something to say when she reached him. Without luck. A few moments later she stood before him again, this time inside a dark staircase, only illuminated by a green emergency exit sign. And she was still the most enthralling thing he'd seen. 

Why was she even here?

"You're a hard man to find, Maestro." She smiled shyly. She must've seen the guarded look in his eyes because she continued. "I lost your card. The wind literally swept it away from my hands. I tried to google you, but apparently the name 'Maestro' isn't as special as Bono or Cher." Her slight chuckle at her joke was really awkward. He knew because he was the definition of awkward. "I'm sorry I didn't contact you. I should've asked for a real name." She looked imploring at him.

"Erik." He managed to croak, earning him a smile from those beautiful lips.

"Hi Erik, I'm Christine." She went to shake his hand which was very sweaty, so he hurried to grip her fingertips carefully and pull her hand to his mouth to kiss her knuckles. He hoped that it was a smooth save. It made her blush. Was that good or bad? "Do you mind sitting here for a while? It's a bit crowded up there." She asked and gestured up to the door they'd exited. He nodded and they both took a seat next to each other only two feet apart.

"I really am sorry I lost your card." She said and looked at him with a sad smile.

"It happens. The er.. offer still stands if you want lessons. Have you been singing - other than in the shower?" He added with a smirk and she grinned at him.

"Just so you know, I don't sing in the shower. Only when I'm cleaning." She winked and laughed sincerely when he said that she was always welcome to clean his house then.

They fell into a comfortable conversation about everything and nothing. They talked about music, especially opera which they both seemed to favor. He asked about Sweden and she explained that she'd only lived the first ten days of her life. Her mother had passed away just after giving birth to her and her father hadn't been able to stay there because of the memories of her. They'd lived with a professor named Valerius and his wife the first years of her life where she'd learned French. But most of the time she spoke Swedish with her father who missed Sweden, though he never told his daughter that.

She told Erik about her childhood with a single father and how they'd travelled around Europe when she got older. In turn he recounted the places he'd been which had been mostly outside of Europe. When she asked him about his childhood, he tried skirt around it and all she said was "It's alright if you'd rather not talk about it."

Erik didn't feel awkward or uncomfortable when they talked, not even when she turned and leaned against the railing, so she could look him in the eyes without craning her neck. He felt at ease and even calm with her near him and didn't even worry about moving closer when she would only whisper what instrument she played. He was surprised that the word 'piano' could create such a shiver down his spine.

He told her of how Nadir had tricked him into coming and it wasn't until she asked him why that he realized she didn't know that he was only there for her. "Why would he trick you into attending a party?" She asked him with curious eyes.

"I'm not really the type who attends this sort of party. Or any party. Nadir knows that." He answered.

"Then why did he make you go to this one?" Her question was simple enough, but the answer would expose his feelings to her. How stupid he'd been to fall for her after having met her only once. How he'd thought about her every day. How he could still feel her lips on his. He could just lie to her, a skill he'd perfected, but he found that he'd rather not. Instead he braced himself for the awkwardness returning when he answered her.

"Because he thought you might be here." He forced out the words without daring to look up. "Because he knows that I can't stop thinking about you." He'd barely finished his sentence before he felt her hands pull his face to her and it took him completely by surprise when her lips touched his.

It was nothing like he'd remembered it. It was so much more. Her lips were warm, soft and slightly wet against his and pressed gently, yet firmly. Sparks flew in his chest by the simple touch, never had he felt so alive. She pulled a little away to look at him, but he couldn't bear the distance and kissed her again. This time he let his instinct take control and kissed her mouth, her jaw and down her throat, dragging a small moan from her which made his desire run wild. She tugged him back up to her mouth and ran her tongue between his lips, begging for entrance. He let it slide between and marvelled at the sensation of her tongue against his, letting them join together in an erotic dance. Moans left each of them and were swallowed by the other.

He ran his hands into her beautiful hair, feeling the soft curls between his fingers. Her hands gripped at the hairs of his neck, sending a shot of pleasure down to his manhood and he groaned, pulling her closer, so she ended up in his lap. She felt so warm and soft everywhere, so much that he had to touch her. His hands left her hair and down her back, over her waist and up her front. He paused before her breasts and she abandoned his mouth to whisper yes in his ear. His unoccupied mouth began exploring her jaw and neck again, sucking, licking and biting where ever it went.

His right hand carefully touched her breast and she pushed her chest against him, leading her to rub against his erection. They both moaned loudly at the contact. His left hand wrung into her hair again as he pulled her closer while the other kneaded her breast. His mouth devoured her upper torso, learning what made her gasp and moan and whimper. Each sound taught him something about her body and he was a willing student.

Her hands started undoing his shirt, touching his thin chest and teasing his nipples. It made him even more aroused and if he wasn't carefully he would explode before they even got started. "Erik, please." She whimpered and he caught her mouth again, sliding a hand into her corset and fondling her breasts, pulling lightly at her nipples to make her sing. "Erik, I need to s...Ah!" She couldn't complete her sentence when he sucked at her pulsepoint, no doubt creating a hickey.

He didn't even feel her take off her mask nor did he feel the fingers on his own before it was too late.

The mask fell between them, echoing in the empty staircase. 

He pulled away from her and hid his face in his hands. But it was too late. Her gasp had been so loud that the sound resonated in his head. He scrambled to his feet and ran down the stairs, not letting his face leave the cradle of his hands until he reached his car. He must've look so stupid, running like that. But it was better than the alternative of anyone seeing him. 

As he sat down in the safety of his car, the sorrow finally overtook him. Tears welled up in his eyes and he let them fall as he cried. It had been years since he'd last cried because of his face, but now he truly felt the loss of what could've been if he'd been born with a normal face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always welcome!


	3. Third

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christine is abandoned on the stairs.

Christine hadn't thought it would matter. It was a masquerade, so they both wore masks. But when they'd started to make out, the masks had been in their way and it wouldn't matter if they took them off.

She'd wanted him. Badly. Ever since meeting him the year before, he'd been on her mind. His intense eyes, his enchanting voice. Her on and off again relationship with Raoul had been shut completely off, much to Raoul's displeasure, and she had started going to more parties at the Conservatory in hope that he would be there, but he never was. No one knew who he was.

When she'd seen him at Meg's 22nd birthday, once again on the balcony, she'd been in shock. What would she say? He'd seemed shocked too and ran inside before she could say anything. So she'd pushed Raoul away and run after him, just barely catching a glimpse of him through the emergency exit door. He'd stopped on his way down the stairs when she'd called after him and she had been so relieved when he let her apologize. He had been as puzzling and charismatic as she remembered and he even had a sense of humor.

Then he had told her that she had been on his mind too for the whole year. She had to  kiss him and he had responded with a fiery passion that created a fire in her. It wasn't long before he had made her hot and heavy, needing relief for the aching between her legs. She wanted his mouth on her everywhere and his hard length inside of her with no thought as to where they were.

She had begun unbuttoning his shirt, but her mask had annoyed her skin and she wanted it gone. She'd wanted it all gone, nothing between them like time had been between them the past year. She'd imagined his voice, his eyes and the brief touch of his lips while touching herself under the sheet, dreaming that it was him touching her and she couldn't wait any longer.

So she'd stripped off her mask and pulled his mask away too. And discovered that the mask mattered. It hadn't been a coincidence that she'd only seen him at a masked ball. He'd been hiding in plain sight.

It shocked her at first. He'd pulled away so quickly and she'd only caught a glimpse, but it had been enough to understand why he wore the mask and why he'd reacted as he did. The first she'd detected was the lack of a nose, the next was the missing eyebrows. Veins stood out on the almost transparent, scarred skin and his eyes seemed as sunken into his skull.

Had she not noticed because of the dim light or was it the mask that created an illusion of a normal face underneath? Did he always wear that mask? Had he been born with it or was it an accident? What about surgery? Did he think it mattered that much?

Clearly he did because he'd run from her before she could even give him the mask back. She'd called his name as she heard him run, but this time he hadn't stopped. She knew she'd done something unforgivable in his eyes. How should she have known that his mask wasn't like any other?

Now she was sitting alone on the stairs, sobbing with his mask in her hands. It seemed to be porcelain with rubber inside to spare the skin. To think that he had to wear this every day was difficult. How hard his life must be. She wondered if it was the only life he'd known, behind a mask. And she had ripped it off him in a moment where he probably felt like any other man - wearing a mask like everyone else here.

Why hadn't he mentioned something? She'd practically told him her life story while he'd been vague when she'd asked about his life. It kind of made sense though, she realized. At any other party he would stand out. He'd just leaped at the chance to be normal. And now he'd run away. Was it because he hated her for removing it or because he thought that she despised what she saw?

Did she despise it? It had been so brief, yet her memory had quickly absorbed the details. It was hard to decipher her feelings about it though. She knew that she really liked his flaming eyes and his smile, however rare it seemed to be. She'd loved his mouth and his large hands on her. His chest had been lean, but still quite muscular and she'd no doubt that his cock would satisfy her from the way it had pleasured her even beneath their clothing. 

But what really mattered was that she liked to talk to him and be in his company. It had felt natural. 

She turned the mask and saw lipstick smudges on it, making her laugh a bit. It probably wasn't good for the porcelain, but it suited the white mask otherwise.

She needed to find him.

 

***

It wasn't an easy task finding him. Though she now had a first name, they both forgot about last names and perhaps some other basic information. But she knew that he owned a theater, so she searched for every theater owner in the Paris area called Erik. There were a lot more than expected and after calling the first five, she realized that she needed more to go on. Then she remembered that his friend's name was Nadir which narrowed the search down completely. Theatre Maestro, owned by Erik Le Seine and Nadir Khan. 

It might've seemed desperate to call the day after the masquerade, but she was not afraid to admit that she was desperate. However when this Nadir answered the phone, she was at a loss with what to say. She wasn't surprised that Erik wasn't answering the phone, but she hadn't prepared what she was going to say to whoever picked up. She didn't always think that far ahead.

"Erm... Monsieur Khan? I'm uhm... Angel?" She knew Erik had told his friend about the first time they met, but he probably hadn't heard what happened yesterday. 

"Angel?" He muttered. "That's not a very good stage name. Too overused."

"No, I mean. My name is Christine and I'd like..."

"You want to speak to Erik." He finished for her, quite rudely. "I don't think he would want that."

"Please, I want to tell him that I'm sorry, M. Khan-"

"-Nadir."

"...Nadir. And I'd like to see him again. At least to give him his mask back." She stammered, feeling like this conversation wasn't going very well.

"Well, he has other masks, you know." Nadir chuckled, but Christine didn't respond. "Okay, I'll be honest with you, dear. Erik isn't like other men. He doesn't usually talk to people, especially not women. He'd never even been ki..." Nadir cleared his throat, stopping himself, but she'd heard enough. She'd been his first kiss. She touched her lips lightly as to keep the feel of his kiss forever. She blushed when she realized how much Erik had told Nadir. She hadn't even told Meg that much.

"You sound like you actually like him, but he's too ashamed to see you. I can't convince him otherwise." She heard the exasperation in the man's voice. These men were probably completely different. Their personality seemed to be. Erik was tall, lean and pale and now she imagined Nadir to be short, chubby and dark skinned. 

"Is there any way I can see him without him being warned?" She needed something, anything. "Show up without him running away?"

"Hmm..." Nadir mumbled. "You can sing, right?" The light tone in his voice informed her that he already knew and had an idea.

"Yes..."

"Well, we have auditions on Thursday where Erik always attends." She heard Nadir's smile. He clearly thought that it was a brilliant idea.

"But there's this thing... I have terrible stage fright. I can't sing in front of anyone." Just talking about this made her nervous.

"Well, maybe if you can get over that, Erik can get over you seeing his face." Nadir chuckled. "Be there at 4 pm. I'll put you on our list under the name Angel." He laughed and hung up the phone, leaving Christine with a feeling of having been run over.

 

***

Thursday came after several days of Christine making herself more nervous than necessary. She'd finally told Meg everything who had thought it would be perfect and so romantic if Christine did as Nadir had suggested. Soon enough she found herself even more run over by her own friend. What a pair those two friends would make! When she'd joked about it, Meg had instantly been excited and now wanted to be introduced to Nadir.

Christine didn't know if she would even make it onto the stage without fainting. But when she was sitting the evening before and reluctantly cleaning the lipstick off Erik's mask she'd gotten an idea.

At 4 pm she stood behind fifteen other women who chatted about upcoming roles in the theater industry. It didn't really interest Christine much as she had always wanted to be a concert pianist, not even ever considering a career as a singer with her stage fright.

Nadir opened the door and greeted them all welcome, but didn't seem to notice Christine. She was also pretty disappointed that Nadir wasn't short and chubby as expected, but Meg would probably be glad to know. He seemed a bit old though, probably in his late thirties. 

She was apparently the last on the list or maybe Nadir just called her up last on purpose. She had heard Erik's voice from the back row, but she couldn't see him as it was dark up there and the spotlight was on the stage. He sounded to be in quite a mood, very different from the two times she'd met him. His voice had been like a bird flying through the clouds, but here it sounded more like thunder. It was still mesmerizing, something the other women agreed with, even when he complained about their singing. 

When it was finally Christine's turn, she realized that she hadn't brought any music sheets for the pianist. She was apparently supposed to do that. She asked if she could play herself which luckily was an option.

"What's the hold up?" Erik yelled from the back, sounding very impatient. "If you want your chance, 'Angel', get to it." Jeez, his anger didn't really calm her high strung nerves.

She pulled her hair out of its bun, donned the mask and walked up to the piano. She heard someone rise from their seat and footsteps moved towards an exit to the right, but she tried to stay calm as she sat down and started to play.

Verdi had always been a favorite of hers and she loved the tragic story of La Traviata. The sound of steps stopped and it might've been because he'd left, but she had the feeling that he was still there. She began singing about meeting a man who might be the one, letting each word soar in Hopes that he would feel her passion. 

_È strano! È strano!_  
_in core scolpiti ho quegli accenti!_  
_Sarìa per me sventura un serio amore?_  
_Che risolvi, o turbata anima mia?_  
_Null'uomo ancora t'accendeva._  
_Oh, gioia_  
_ch'io non conobbi_  
_esser amata amando!_  
_E sdegnarla poss'io_  
_per l'aride follie dei viver mio?_

As she came to the main part, she abandoned the piano and walked up to the front of the stage. She looked into the audience seats in hope of seeing him, but the light was too bright.  

  
_Ah, fors'è lui che l'anima_  
_solinga ne' tumulti_  
_godea sovente pingere_  
_de' suoi colori occulti._  
_Lui, che modesto e vigile_  
_all'egre soglie ascese,_  
_e nuova febbre accese_  
_destandomi all'amor!_  
_A quell'amor ch'è palpito_  
_dell'universo intero_  
_misterioso, altero_  
_croce e delizia al cor._

She carefully took off the mask as she sang the last sentence. When she finished the theater lay in silence. A few moments passed before Nadir applauded her and walked up to stage to her.

"He isn't here. But he was. He heard you sing." He whispered solemnly and Christine knew that it was time to give up. She nodded, handed him Nadir mask and walked off the stage. She'd go home, have a good cry in the bath, text Meg to bring a tub of Ben&Jerry's after practice and drown her sorrows in ice cream.

***

Erik watched from Nadir's office as she stepped into the street. The look on her face was one of sadness and disappointment, one he saw every day when he looked into the mirror. It was hard to be responsible for those feelings marring her face.

She'd sung on stage for him. In a mask, yes, but his mask. There had been no doubt in his mind that it was her when he saw the long brown curls and it was only confirmed when his mask had peeked out from the curls as she'd turned her face. He'd tried to leave before the emotions in him would overflow, but it had already been too late. She'd begun playing the melody on piano herself and he was lost when he heard her voice. 

Her voice had filled the whole theater like no one had done before. It was much stronger than he'd realized when hearing her sing last year. When her fingers had left the piano keys and she'd turned completely to the room, she seemed to gain more courage. Though he'd known that she couldn't see him, it still felt like she stared into his soul when she'd taken his mask off as she finished the aria.

He'd hurried out the exit as quiet as possible. He couldn't face her. She'd been brave, fighting her stage fright, as she stood there, but he was anything but brave. 

He knew Nadir would come to scold him which was why he had chosen his office. And because it had a view of the street where he could watch Christine walk out of his life.

"What the hell was that?" Nadir slammed the door behind him and it shook on its hinges. The doors around here always came loose, but it was usually because of Erik's temper.

The Persian threw the mask to Erik when he turned around to face him. Erik caught it rather awkwardly, luckily because they broke easily and weren't exactly cheap. "She walks onto that stage to declare that she's falling for you and you do nothing? Sometimes I wonder if you even want to be loved."

"LOVED?" Erik yelled, throwing the mask into the wall, knowing he would regret that later. Nadir looked indifferent. "My own mother couldn't love me, why the fuck should I expect anyone else to?"

"Well, I believe your mother was a stone cold bitch. Luckily not everyone is. Christine certainly doesn't seem to be." Nadir answered without a beat, but Erik just scoffed at him. Naive Nadir. He always downplayed Erik's disfigurement, claiming that you got used to it. Erik had lived it with, but still hadn't gotten used to it. His mother had given birth to him and had still tried to 'fix' him the second he was old enough to get cosmetic surgery, choosing the biggest charlatan and perhaps ruining his face even more than it already was.

"She probably didn't see anything. It was dark after all and I was quick to cover myself." Erik mumbled. It would explain why she'd tried to talk to him again. She probably thought he was hiding a blemish or one of those birth marks with hairs in it.

Nadir sighed, took his coat off the rack and opened the squeaking door to leave. It was surprising that he was giving up already. A discussion between them could easily take several hours. "She took off her mask for you, Erik. I guess you don't care enough for her to do the same." With those words Nadir closed the door and left Erik alone with his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The aria Christine sings is from La Traviata by Verdi. It's translated to this:
> 
> How strange! How strange!  
> I have these words engraved in my heart!  
> Would a serious love be a misfortune for me?  
> What's your decision, oh troubled soul of mine?  
> No man has set you on fire before  
> Oh what joy  
> I didn't know  
> being loved, loving!  
> And could I reject it  
> out of the barren insanity of my living?
> 
> Ah, maybe he's the one who  
> often rejoiced painting my soul  
> alone amid excitements  
> with his occult colours  
> How modest and vigilant he  
> climbed the sad doorsteps  
> and lit up a new fever  
> arousing my love!  
> Such a love that makes  
> the whole universe palpitate  
> mysterious and lofty  
> crucifixion and delight for my heart


	4. Fourth

Christine had just added shampoo to her curls when the doorbell rang. Typical! It was the pizza delivery, this time too early. The last time they had to wait for the pizza an hour more than promised. It wasn't particularly easy to quickly wash the shampoo out of her tight curls and she had to use conditioner too if she wanted to be able to run a brush through it afterwards. Meg had already left for her party.

Christine held a hand over her forehead to avoid getting shampoo in her eyes and wrapped herself in a towel the best she could before opening the door. "You weren't supposed to be here for another 20 minutes!" She growled at the poor teenager with a pizza box in his hands and he visibly shrunk. She found her wallet, gave him a ten and barely caught the pizza box as he stormed out of there. Definitely not using that pizza place again.

She'd caught the pizza with the hand that kept shampoo out of her face and when she felt the shampoo run down her forehead, it was already too late. It reached her eyes, making her scream as it burned. She closed the door, threw the pizza on the table and ran to the shower to rinse her hair and eyes. It kept stinging and even when she'd finished with the conditioner, she still had difficulty seeing anything but a blur. Well, that couldn't be good. Should she go to a doctor? She dried off and put on her jammies, deciding to wait it out. It would probably be gone by morning anyway.

Settling down on the couch with a blanket and the lukewarm pizza, she turned on the tv, then groaned out loud in frustration when she connected the dots of tele _vision_  and not being able to see a darn thing. So much for her date with the Tonys tonight. Half the fun of the award show was watching the red carpet and the choreography. Hearing a brief knock on the door, she just yelled 'come in'. It was probably Raoul. He always knocked instead of using the doorbell.

"Hello?" A heavenly, yet perplexed voice spoke as the door opened and made her fall halfway off the couch. 

"Erik, is that you?" She looked towards the door, but still couldn't see anything but a blur. 

"Ye... yes, it's me. Can I come in?" He asked. "Jesus, Christine, what happened to your eyes?" He sounded terribly worried and now she really wondered if she should see a doctor. She tried navigating to the door. 

"Uhm, I got shampoo in them and it still stings. Can't really see much." She shrugged, trying to play it off as nothing. "Come in, shut the door. What are you doing here?" She asked the question to change the subject, but then realized that she actually wanted to know. She was still hurt after he'd ignored her when she'd sung on stage. For him! She put her arms across her chest in a defensive pose.

"I came to apologize, but right now I think it's more important that you don't lose your eyesight. Your eyes are bloodshot. Let's call the emergency room, okay?"

She shook her head. "Can you just check the instructions on the shampoo? Maybe it says something." She heard him walk away. "Last door on the right." She called out, then waited a moment to hear him walk in the bathroom, but didn't hear anything. "Mine is the one for curly hair."

"I guessed." He answered beside her and she yelped at his sudden appearance. She hadn't even heard him come back. "Hmm... it says here that stinging and blurring of eyesight can occur and if it continues after 12 hours, you should seek medical attention." He didn't seem satisfied with the lapel's instructions, but put the bottle on the table anyway.

"Great, I'm not losing my sight just yet. Now, tell me why I should listen. You made it pretty obvious that you weren't interested in my apology." She put her hands on her hips and tried to look him in the eyes the best she could. The tall dark blur with a mostly white face was probably him.

He seemed to shift nervously a bit and she let her hands fall to her sides. No need to make the man more anxious than he already was. "I came to say that you got the part!" A high-strung chuckle escaped him and it sounded so bizarre coming from that enchanting voice. "I mean you were really the best of them all, so it's not a joke if you're inte-"

"You know I don't dare to sing on stage, Erik." She interrupted him.

"But you did it anyway. For me." He spoke softly and stepped a little closer to her. The close proximity was everything it had been on the staircase and more. "It was very brave of you and I'm sorry I didn't say it right away. I was afraid to see you again after... There's not usually anyone who wants to see me again after they've seen..." He couldn't quite finish the sentence and there was no need to.

"Well, I'm not sure I'm ready to forgive you for running away and leaving me hanging," She hoped he caught on that she meant both on the staircase, horny as hell, and on the stage. "But perhaps you can redeem yourself." She smiled wickedly and sensed the tension rising in him. "No one will watch the Tonys with me and now I can't even watch it myself. Will you stay and describe everything to me?"

She felt the tension leave him as he let out a soft sigh. "Of course I will." With his confirmation she took his hand and dragged him to the couch, patting a seat next to her.

"In detail." She stressed and held a finger up. He must've nodded, but muttered yes when he realized that she might not be able to see anything. "Even every dress." She smirked and felt tension from him again, making her laugh and then he laughed with her. It was almost like a sweet duet.

 

***

It was well past midnight when she turned off the tv and snuggled a little closer to the man beside her. It had been a fun evening. He'd actually liked the Tonys and even mentioned that he would watch it again next year. She secretly hoped it would be with her. She'd always wanted a Tonys buddy.  "Thank you for watching the Tonys with me, Erik." She yawned.

"You're welcome. Was I a good narrator?" He murmured.

She smiled up at his blurry face. "Mmm, I'll let you narrate everything in my life with that sexy voice." Had she said that out loud? That question didn't need an answer though as she felt his lips graze hers tenderly before pulling back. All coherent thought had left her head, leaving her miraculously speechless for a moment. She hadn't expected him to initiate a kiss after last time.

"Christine, I'm sorry, I shoul-" She stopped his words with her lips, pressing hard against him. There was no doubt in her mind that she wanted him, face or no face. He leaned into her, pushing her down to the couch and she eagerly let him. She liked a man who took control in the bedroom, but she wouldn't expect that from him, yet. Not if she was his first.

Their kiss deepened and he began peppering kisses down her jaw and her throat while she nibbled his ear and gripped his hair, enjoying the groans she drew from him. For someone who hadn't much experience, he sure learned quickly because he made her burn with desire in no time. She felt the length of his body against hers and wrapped her legs around him to pull him closer. By instinct he thrust his arousal into her groin and she moaned as he made contact with her pleasure point, even through the layers of clothing.

He pulled away panting. "Christine, you should know that I've never done this before. I'm probably not very good at it and-"

"Shh," she touched his lips with her index finger. "Don't worry. Everything you are is good enough." She tried to pull him back down to her lips, but he didn't budge. He was thinking so hard she could almost imagine cogs turning inside his brain like a clockwork. She tugged at him again, but this time he pulled completely back and sat on his knees above her.

"You really mean that?" He barely whispered, his voice strained. "You think I'm good enough?" She nodded in concern. Her eyes didn't sting anymore, but her vision hadn't bettered and she couldn't see the expression on his face. She sat up under him and touched his neck.

"Why would you think anything else?" She spoke softly, stroking his neck softly.

"My face... is bad. If you could see it in its entirety, you wouldn't want me." His voice spoke of tears in his eyes, but she couldn't see them and they would probably fall beneath the mask where she couldn't wipe them away. 

"I can't prove you wrong right now as I really can't see much of anything. But maybe you could let me touch you?" She talked like she would to a wounded animal, knowing that the wrong word would probably send him running. He paused, his breath quivering slightly. The hand at his neck continued down his back, rubbing in small circles for comfort. 

Taking a deep breath, he exhaled an answer: "Okay."

"Okay?"

He nodded, tension rippling through him. "You can touch my face." He seemed resolved, but she didn't want to push him. 

"Are you sure? I don't have to. We can fool around anyway." She said flirty, always forgetting how awful it sounded when she tried that.

"No, you deserve to know who's touching you." She was about to argue, but he continued. "And I need to know if I disgust you before we.. do more. You-you cared enough to brave your fear of singing on stage for me, I will be brave about this for you - for us." She smiled at his kind words. 

He moved off her legs and sat back against the couch and placed his hands on the mask. As he breathed heavily, she saw the blur of him removing the white mask from his face into his lap. He didn't move, but sat freakishly still on the couch. She moved to sit in his lap, feeling the taut muscles in his body. She took one of his hands in her left hand and squeezed it lightly to let him show that she was with him, not against him. He squeezed back.

Then she raised her right hand to his mouth. It was safe space. He must've closed his eyes because he jumped slightly in surprise when she started there. She ran her thumb over his bottom lip, then kissed it gently. It tembled beneath her lips.

She slowly moved her hand over his left cheek, feeling the strange texture of his skin, smooth in some places and rough in others. It reminded her of a large scar on a burn victim, but it hadn't looked like a burn when she'd seen it. She'd ask him, just not now. She felt the lines of veins right beneath the skin, a peculiar feeling. But she wasn't disgusted, so she kissed his cheek where her hand had ventured. The skin under his eyes was wet and salty, but she didn't comment.

Her hand travelled up to his forehead where the skin was smoother than his cheek and she was quick to plant kisses there as well. His right cheek got the same treatment as the left which lead her to his nose. Or the lack of it. She wasn't really sure what to do as she couldn't see anything and was afraid to hurt him. Instead she kissed him on salty lips, wet from his tears.

His body began to shake with sobs. He pulled his arms around her and buried his face in her neck, crying unrestrained into her hair. She hugged him tightly to her and let him cry. When had he last been touched like this by another human being? Suddenly she wanted to wrap him up in her arms and never let him go.

When his sobs began to quiet, she pulled him slightly back and tried to make out his expression. She still couldn't see much, but she got the feeling that he was tired. She crawled off him and without a word took his hand and led him to her bedroom.

"Christine, I don't think I can..." He tried to say, but she put her finger on his lips to hush him.

"We don't have to do anything. Just lie here with me and rest." He nodded and watched as she pulled the covers free and made him lie down. Taking off his boots and socks, she decided to leave his pants on. For now, she thought and smirked to herself. She laid down beside him and pulled him into her embrace before covering them with the duvet.

"Erik?" She whispered.

"Yes?" His voice was guarded and she wondered if he thought that she would turn him away. She gripped him tighter.

"Will you sing to me?" The question must've caught him off guard because several moments passed by before he softly began to sing an old lullaby. His singing voice was exactly like she'd imagined. It carried her away on a cloud, sleep finding her quickly with his voice in her ears.

 


	5. Zenith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shameless smut. A lot of it. So very much smut. Not sorry at all.

When Christine woke up, the sun was rising and shining right into her eyes. She'd forgotten to draw the curtains. But that was the only uncomfortable thing about waking up. Behind her a warm, solid body was pressed up against her, an arm draped over her waist. It made her feel safe and well, incredibly horny. Especially with something hard poking her backside. She shifted slightly against him and heard him react with a soft moan.

She realized that her vision weren't blurred anymore which meant that she could see the face he'd been so afraid of showing her. Up close, in broad daylight. Would it be violating his trust to look while he was sleeping? Probably. It would be better to wait, so she could show him that it didn't matter to her.

But then came the doubt. What if it did matter to her? While she knew that she wasn't shallow, she wanted to be able to look into her lover's face without revulsion. Sure, she'd touched his face yesterday and seen a peek of it in the dim light on the staircase, but it wasn't quite the same as waking up in the sunlight looking into that face. So it might better if she looked at him while he slept, so she could decide if she could live with it. It would be cruel to take this relationship of sorts further if she couldn't handle looking at his face. 

Now decided and preparing herself, she carefully turned around to face him. Her face came directly into contact with a broad, pale chest with sparse hair. He must've taken his shirt off sometime in the night. She also noticed that he was only wearing boxers. Quite daring of him to shred his clothes. She would never have expected that.

He was quite thin, but it was still easy to see the slightly defined muscles and she dared to run her hand over one of his pecs, grazing a dark nipple. She watched as goosebumps formed over his skin. Oh, she wanted to keep going and tease him, but she had to accept his face first, so she scooted up until she was face to face with him. 

Christine had expected the sunlight to make the sight worse than it had been on the stairs, but it seemed to be the other way around. While the misshapen skin on his cheeks and forehead became more apparent, it didn't look as transparent as she'd remembered. She could see veins and the muscles through the skin, but it wasn't as ghastly in the sun. The features around his eyes were relaxed, making him look more normal than she remembered from the glimpse she'd had of him. The shadows in the dark staircase must've made it worse.

The lack of a nose was a lot more difficult to deal with, she admitted to herself. Everything else didn't bother her at all, but she wasn't sure how to handle to a missing nose. It wasn't just that it looked macabre, though it really did with the gaping hole that should've been covered by cartilage and skin. It also bothered her that she wouldn't be able to kiss his nose or rub her nose against his. A thought hit her that he possibly never had those things, had never known what it felt like. 

Her stomach twisted when she thought about it. She'd been his first kiss according to Nadir. And his mother passed away when he was 19. How old was he? Older than her 22 years at least. To have gone so many years without a kiss, without the comfort of love. No one caressing his face.

It couldn't just be because it revolted people as it wasn't _that_  bad, even with the missing nose. Perhaps he hadn't dared to let anyone in because he feared their reactions like he feared hers.

It wasn't exactly easy to get him to talk about himself, but he was a good and attentive listener. From what she knew about him - his sharp mind, his slightly peculiar humour and his love of music and travel - she really liked him. She wanted to be there for him and have him be there for her. The attraction was undeniable, even as she looked at his unmasked features. Her eyes fell to his lips. They were thin, yet so soft. He'd quickly learned how to make her extremely aroused by kissing and sucking her skin, making her wonder where else he would be skillful. 

She definitely wanted more of him. Not just the physical aspect, but also getting to know him for real and have him open up to her. There was no way she could promise him that they would last forever, but she was sure that she wanted to try.

When she felt certain, she wanted to wake and tell him, but then she got a better idea. She kissed him on his soft lips, then up over his cheeks and forehead. He whimpered in his sleep, making her wonder if she was hurting him. He hadn't said anything the night before about his face hurting, but he might just have been polite. She decided to continue down his jaw and throat instead, relishing the soft sounds from him responding to her actions. He turned to lie completely on his back and she shifted to hover over him.

She thought for a brief moment if this was morally acceptable to do. While he'd been very eager yesterday, he hadn't really consented to anything this morning. Taking a chance and trusting her instinct, she continued the path of kisses over his skin.

She enjoyed the smell of him, the softness of his skin. Her tongue flickered out to lick a nipple which made him moan loudly and that sound made her unbelievably aroused. The strain of his erection in his black boxers didn't escape her notice either and she had to continue downwards before drooling all over him. Kissing until she was all the way down, though stopping to give his belly button a taste, she ran her nose over the tent in his boxers. It twitched in its restraints and the groan from his mouth was sinful.

Taking his quite impressive length out of his boxers she gripped him tightly and stroked him once as she watched his eyes flicker open, completely confused, yet filled with desire. "Oh Christine," he gasped when she stroked him again and watched precum run from his head. She reached down and licked it, enjoying the sight of his eyes rolling back in pleasure. 

Then she remembered something. "I didn't ask if it was alright before I started, but if you don't consent, please tell me." She said, taking her hand away from his length to give him the option to stop her. 

"Good God, Christine, I consent. Just... Ah! " Her mouth was already on him, sucking and licking while stroking him with her hand. Her other hand raked his torso lightly with her nails, sometimes grazing a nipple carefully. The girth of him quickly put a strain on her jaw as she tried to fit as much of him as possible in her mouth, but his reaction made it all worth it. His hard breathing had turned to panting and his hands went into her hair, gripping her. She felt like a goddess, incredibly aroused herself by the sounds he was making.

Then he removed a hand from her hair to run over his face, making him freeze entirely. "I.. My mask!" He said, trying to get up while hiding his face, but she held him down the best she could with the free hand on his chest. It was useless.

"Erik, I don't mind." She let go of his erection which had started to falter as soon as his mind had begun to race. She crawled up his body and straddled him and managed to hold him down. His eyes were closed and his hands hid his face. "Erik, I've seen it now and I'm not bothered. Please." She tried to wrestle his hands away, but he was too strong.

"I don't want your pity!" He growled in anger which in turn just made her angry.

"This is not pity!" She shouted, finally managing to grab a hand away from his face. He turned to hide the exposed side in the pillow. She used her free hand to untie the drawstrings on her pyjamas pants before leading his hand down feel her wetness. " _This_  is not pity!" She said more softly when his hand touched her soaking slit. He gasped as he felt the touch of her. Her breath hitched when his fingers moved to explore on their own. His head turned back to her, looking down to his hand between her legs. "It's not pity that makes me wet, Erik, it's you." 

A finger slid up between her inner lips, touching her clit lightly and she moaned in pleasure, letting her head fall back for a moment. She looked back down at him, his eyes still on his hand touching her, his gaze filled with fascination and lust. He stroked her clit again as his eyes moved back to hers to study her reaction.

His other hand had forgotten its purpose of hiding his face, so she reached for it and pressed it against her right breast, then pulled off her shirt, so he could touch her bare skin. His fingertips were calloused which made her wonder if he played an instrument. He had so many talents, touching her definitely being one of them. 

He studied her breast while his hand travelled over it, squeezing lightly before brushing over her nipple which made her moan again. She began rubbing herself on his hand involuntarily and gasped when a long finger entered her.

"Oh Christine, you feel so soft. So wet." He whispered, the fascination plain in his deep voice as his finger moved in and out of her and his thumb circled her clit.

"You make me like this, Erik. Please don't stop." She begged, looking into his eyes as she willed him to believe her words and to keep going. Another finger entered her while his thumb pressed down on her clit just right and she fell over the edge into a blinding orgasm while screaming his name. 

She landed on his firm chest, trying to gain control of her breathing. At some point he'd extracted his hand and when she looked up at him, he was licking her juices off his fingers, his eyes closed in contentment. Even after that spectacular orgasm, she felt a wave of arousal by the sight.

"That was magnificent." She said, drawing his eyes to hers. He turned his head a little away from her and looked doubtful. She didn't want him to doubt her words and took a light hold of his jaw to pull him back to face her. "I mean it, Erik. I want you." She ran her hand over his cheek and let her eyes roam over his face. "All of you." Tears began to well up in his eyes and he shook his head faintly. 

"How can you even stand to look at me?" He whispered incredulous. She began to realize that this would take a lot of time to get past if he'd spent his whole life like this. But she would do the best she could.

"Because I like you. I really like you." She kissed him again, following the trail down his throat she'd made when he'd been asleep. "And I do believe you interrupted me before." She mumbled against his skin. When she reached his pulse point and sucked lightly, his breath hitched. She could already feel him fully erect against her butt as she sat straddled on his stomach, but she took her time as she travelled over his skin once more. The sounds he made with that amazing voice of his were just too wicked and she hadn't even reached his cock before she was drenched again. She would have to wait though. He wouldn't last long and she wouldn't want him to ashamed about coming too fast while having sex. 

This time she pulled his boxers completely off him and fondled his sack tenderly before gripping the base of his member, licking teasingly around the head. He wiggled beneath her, his hands tightly wrung into the sheets. "Christine..." He begged and she gave in, letting him fill her mouth again. "Ah God!" He gripped her hair again, running his fingertips over her scalp. This was sheer enjoyment to her. Her other hand began massaging his sack tenderly.

She picked up the pace, sucking hard and humming lightly around him.  "Christine, I... I'm.. Christine!" He shouted as he came into her mouth and she swallowed and licked until he was clean and soft. He pulled her up to him, still panting and reeling from his climax. It made her proud of herself. She'd never really been into giving head, but this had been glorious.

They lied there for a while, enjoying the peaceful morning. Then Christine felt the need to use the bathroom, reluctantly leaving Erik's arms. When she came back, he was getting dressed.

"What are you doing?" She asked, slightly offended. He stopped mid putting his pants on and tried to decipher her facial expression. "You want to leave?" She elaborated with a softer tone, sympathizing with the oblivious man who'd never been in a relationship.

"I thought you wanted me to leave?" He swallowed noticeably and seemed hesitant. 

She wasn't sure if it was actually him who wanted to leave, so she tried to make it clear to him. "If you want to leave, you can, but I was going to offer a shower and breakfast if you wanted it."

His face was of complete uncertainty. "You don't mind that I'm here?"

"No, of course not, silly! I said I like you, remember?" She giggled, seeing a small shy smile appear on his face. "So do you want a shower alone or with me?" His eyes travelling over her still bare chest and her untied pyjamas pants gave her the answer. She grinned and pulled him towards the bathroom.

***

While the shower included a lot of washing, it quickly became apparent to Erik that he really didn't give a damn about cleanliness. When they'd both shred their last clothing, the view of Christine's plump ass as she stepped into the shower had given new life to his cock. She immediately noticed and seemed pretty happy about it.

She tugged him into the shower, gave him a bottle of soap and asked him innocently if he would mind washing her. Coincidentally they were out of washcloths, so he had to use his hands. Not that he complained at all, but he was surprised by the whole situation. He'd never imagined intimacy like this.

Her body was phenomenal. Full breasts with perky nipples, a narrow waist and broad hips that he loved to hold onto for some reason. The curve of her spine, her heart shaped ass and lush thighs were food for his wildest fantasies. His soaped hands moved slowly over every curve, memorizing every reaction as he touched every part of her body.

When she'd started to wash him, they'd both been panting. Her eyes were hooded, unspoken desire leashed for now. He felt an overwhelming need to pin her against the wall and thrust into her, an urge he'd never dared to imagine before. He could barely contain it.

"Do it," she whispered as if she could read his mind, but it was all it took. He pushed her against the tiles with his entire body and crashed his lips to hers. His cock needed contact, but she was much smaller than him, so he pulled one of her legs over his hip to even it out. The feeling of his cock touching her center was incredibly.

She lifted her other leg over his hip with his help and she wrapped her legs around him. She was occupied by his mouth, but he noticed that her curls were getting wet which she'd said that she wanted to avoid. So he turned off the shower and stepped out while still holding her, still kissing her deeply. He grabbed a towel to wipe the worst of the water away and took her to the bedroom where he laid her on the bed and pulled back to look at her.

She was the most beautiful vision in all of creation: Flushed with wet hair and kiss swollen lips that were slightly parted by her heavy breath.

"Christine, you're a goddess. I've never wanted anything like I want you." His voice sounded strange, much deeper than usual.

"Then take me," she whispered, lust in her eyes.

He nodded, realizing that he'd no idea what to do. Only one thing. "Protection?" He felt dumb, but he didn't have any condoms with him. He'd never thought he would need them.

She just smiled. "I'm on the pill."

He nodded slowly, unsure of what to do. He just knew that he wanted to make it good for her. He began kissing her left foot sensually while massaging the arch, moving up slowly to her ankle, over her calf, knee and thigh. She seemed to respond very well to this and when he reached the apex of her legs, she widened her legs. Under her dark curls he could see her center glisten, wet and pink. Whatever he was doing was working. So he started the same trail up her right leg, making her groan with frustration.

When he reached her upper thigh this time he continued up to kiss where she was wettest. The scent of her were intoxicating and he licked a long line up her slit, ending with the little nub that had brought her so much pleasure before. She almost bounced off the bed, her back arching upwards.

"Erik! Yes!" She screamed. Oh, how he loved that sound. This was absolutely gratifying. He kept going, trying different patterns and pressure points. It was making him even more aroused and he couldn't help but thrust into the mattress, his manhood needing the relief.

"God, Erik! Please I need you inside." She moaned and pulled him up by his hair. The mild pain was a perfect contrast to his pleasure. Oh, how he wanted to be inside her. When he reached her face, she pulled his lips down to hers and kissed him breathless.

He wasn't sure how to proceed, but Christine knew. She wrapped her legs around him again and used her hand to lead him right to her wet opening. He kissed her neck, letting her avoid the displeasure of looking into his face, but she pulled him back into a kiss and held his eyes when she pushed her hips upwards, allowing a bit of him to slide in.

He shivered when his tip entered her and he felt her hot muscles grip him, pulling him deeper and he thrust forward into her depths. "Oh, Christine!" He gasped, completely amazed by the feel of her. "You're heaven. So soft. " She looked back at him with an astonishing look of wonder.

"I..." she stammered. "You feel. So good." She rolled her hips, making him slide out and then in again.

"Oh, Christ!" He held his weight off her with one hand on the mattress while the other grabbed her hip to hold on to as he started thrusting in and out of her smoldering heat. He felt her everywhere like he was in a cocoon of her warmth. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply while her hips met his with every thrust. He ran his hand up her thigh, pulling her closer against him.

"Yes, right there! Faster!" She whimpered and he increased the pace, trying to angle himself as she liked. But he was close, too close and he wanted her to join him in ecstasy. He sneaked a hand between them and found her pleasure point, pressing down lightly. Her eyes widened instantly and her finger nails bit deliciously into his back. He felt the muscles around him tighten, squeezing him impossibly.

She screamed his name and her muscles pulsed around him. "Christine, I..!" He thrust forcefully into her once more and let go inside her, coming hard while her inner walls milked at him. His climax was mind blowing compared to when he took care of his desire himself. He'd never have imagined sex to be like this.

Her arms held him against her chest as they both came down from their high and if it was up to him, he would never leave. He lifted his head and looked into her beautiful, smiling eyes. There was no disgust, revulsion or fear. He felt tears coming and hurried to kiss her, so she wouldn't see.

***

Christine was sore. In a good way, but nonetheless extremely sore. It had been a long time since she'd had sex and Erik wasn't exactly small. But dammit, it had been amazing. Though it had been evident how uncertain he was, it had been right to let him follow his instincts because ohmygod that mouth! She could write sonnets about the way he'd kissed and suckled her skin. It seemed like he absorbed every tiny detail about her and put it to use instantly.

She'd been close to coming from his mouth alone, but had wanted more of him. Thinking that he might not last as long since it was be his first time, it seemed perfect that she already was close to climax. Perhaps too close. She'd almost fallen over the edge when he entered her. His thrusts were untrained obviously, but he learned so quickly and in mere minutes she'd shuddered beneath him as he'd pressed a finger on her clit. No fumbling looking for it either. Just a direct hit, sending her off to paradise.

He'd looked so vulnerable afterwards and close to tears. Then they'd kissed and cuddled in the sunlight, enjoying the morning together.

But all good things must come to an end apparently, especially with a meddling roommate. "Chriiiiiiis! There's someone here to see you." Meg called. She groaned into Erik's chest, wondering who it might be visiting. "Actually he's here for Erik, but I'm sure you know where he is." Meg giggled like she was a teenager again.

"Dammit, it's Monday." Erik practically flew off the bed and started getting dressed. Christine grinned, then realized that she had classes too today. She hurried to throw on the first thing in her closet, pulling her hair into a bun like she usually did. Erik had paused by the door, looking embarrassed. 

"What is it?" She asked concerned, touching his arm lightly which made him jump. He tried saving it by smiling down at her and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand.

"It's just... My mask." His eyes looked at the door. It was in the living room. She could just get it, no problem, but it seemed like there was more bothering him.

"I'll get it, but only if you tell me what's really bothering you." He cringed, then walked back to the bed to sit down. He put his elbows on his knees and hid his face in a cradle of his hands. She knew everyone did that when they were frustrated, but she didn't like it when he did it. It meant more when he hid his face. She walked over to him and sat down next to him, a hand running over his back. He was tense.

"Christine..." He hesitated. "When I walk outside, people stare. Some point at me. Parents pull their kids away from me." He finally looked at her, tears in his eyes. "I want to walk in the park with you on Sundays, go with you on a date, take you shopping," she cringed at his words and he noticed, "or whatever you like to do. But you don't deserve the stares. They'll judge you too by being with me and I can't allow that to happen."

"So you don't want to be with me?" She asked, but before he could protest, she continued. "You don't deserve their stares either. I don't care about being judged, as long as I'm not on a stage." She winked and he chuckled. "We can do all those things and I won't be bothered, I promise. Except with the shopping, I really hate it. Let's just try. I can't promise you forever, but I really want to try."

He nodded, looking doubtful and astonished. She tried kissing it off him and while it didn't work, he definitely looked happier. His hand ran slowly up her back, creating a shiver in her, and then he pulled her hair out of its bun. Curls cascaded everywhere. "You look so lovely with your hair down." He murmured and planted a kiss on her temple. She practically melted against him. No one had ever told her that. Most people found her tight springy curls too much.

Meg called again from another room. She smiled brightly at him. "Are you ready for your first Walk of Shame?" His eyes widened in horror.

She left her bedroom to get the mask, seeing Nadir and Meg chatting in the kitchen. They stopped when she appeared, eyeing her closely when she took the mask that someone had taken to the kitchen table. She stuck her tongue out to Meg and winked to Nadir who chuckled. "I think I can forgive Erik for being late this once." He winked back.

Christine skipped back to her bedroom to the unique man whom she had fallen in love with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day to those who celebrate! (this wasn't really planned at all, just a happy coincidence)
> 
> I had planned for this to only be a single story, but I've several requests to continue it and since I have many ideas for this Erik and Christine, I might write a few shorter fics about them in the future.
> 
> Also Erik's face looks a lot like Muirin007's drawings of Leroux Erik.
> 
> Any comments are welcome!


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